


hey, I just met you (and this is crazy)

by estrella30



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do you want to go someplace, Liam?” Harry asks softly. He drops his eyes down to stare at Liam’s mouth, then licks his lips slowly. When he looks back up Liam nearly loses his breath. “Someplace a little more private, maybe?”</p><p>Liam knows how wide his eyes probably are and how dumbstruck his expression most likely looks. All he can hear in his head is, <i>I’m going to do this. I’m going to leave with a complete stranger right in the middle of my own sisters wedding.</i> </p><p> </p><p>OR - fic based on this wedding fic tumblr prompt: "accidentally crashed this wedding, but hey you’re pretty cute"</p>
            </blockquote>





	hey, I just met you (and this is crazy)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carissima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carissima/gifts).



> LIRRY BIRTHDAY FIC FOR MY MAGGIE!!!! 
> 
> Maggie, you are WONDERFUL. You are sweet and funny and nice and one of my favorite writers and you deserve ALL THE GOOD THINGS IN THE WORLD. You literally make the fandom a better place just by being in it. I hope you get every single thing you want and deserve on your bday and every day after forever and ever <33333I LOVE YOU. HAPPY LIRRY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, BABE <3
> 
>  
> 
> I've heard on great authority that in the UK weddings can be held in either one venue which has a room for the ceremony and then a separate room for the after ceremony party, or can be held in two different places, one for the ceremony and then a separate location for the party. for the sake of this fic we're going w everything in one location. 
> 
> I...have no idea if Ruth and Tom are even dating anymore /o\ they might be? the might not? for the sake of the au we're just going to go with that in WHATEVER UNIVERSE THIS ONE IS, this wedding would be appropriate. thaaaaaanks. 
> 
> special thanks to formerlydf for the amazing beta and for asking such pressing questions like, "but did harry EVER wipe the come off his face, or nah." any remaining mistakes are completely my own.
> 
>  
> 
> if you are or know anyone in this fic please don't read it. you can shoot me your number though and we can go out for cocktails if you'd like ;)

*

Liam is sat at his table sipping his fourth vodka and soda when he sees the fit bloke in the strange black hat pass across the dancefloor and smile at him again. 

Normally Liam wouldn’t have even noticed. After all, he has been quite busy: it’s not every day your sister gets married, now is it. But there’s something about him that keeps catching Liam’s eye. Something about his long curly hair, or how far down his black dress shirt is unbuttoned, or…

Or maybe it’s the fact that he keeps making sure to catch Liam’s eye before grinning and winking dramatically at him from across the room. That might be it, Liam thinks. 

“So you really don’t know who he is?” Liam asks Nicola for probably the tenth time today. 

Liam had first noticed him during the ceremony itself. He had been standing in the back of the room with a small smile touching his lips as he watched Ruth and Tom exchange teary-eyed vows. Liam had been up front and in charge of the rings, and when the blokes eyes locked with his for one lingering moment Liam thought, _oh_ and _hello_ and _who are you_ all at once. 

He’d been whisked out into the gardens after that though, for family photos and all sorts of brother-of-the-bride duties, and by the time he got back inside for the party the bloke was already laughing and talking and dancing to everyone else in the room. It had seemed like Liam’s moment - if there even had been one - had passed.

Nicola sighs at him now and takes Liam’s drink, stealing a sip and passing it back with a grimace. “Christ that’s strong,” she says, face scrunched up into a frown. Liam snatches his drink back and pulls it in protectively towards his chest. He’s quite happy with his drinks tonight, thanks so much. Nicola can just sod off. 

“And no,” Nicola says with a sigh. “Like I told you before, he’s definitely not from our side. I asked Ruth but she wasn’t sure either. Thought maybe he was someone Tom knew from Uni?”

Liam shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I met most of those blokes at the stag do.”

Liam doesn’t add that he’s definitely never seen this bloke before today, because if he had he’s quite sure he’d have remembered it. Liam’s not even been close enough to him to have a conversation, but from what he’s seen the bloke is tall and handsome, wearing tight fitting trousers and a black shirt opened far enough that Liam can see the smattering of ink scrawled all over his shoulders and chest. He’s got on a skinny scarf and a wide brimmed black hat and two or three long silver chains dangling around his neck.

He seems nice too, which is the part Liam keeps coming back to. He’s talking easily to people from both Liam and Tom’s side of the family, everyone from Liam’s smallest cousins to his ninety year old nan. No matter who he’s with they’re always smiling and laughing with him, and put that together with the way he seems to keep trying to find _Liam_ \- the way he’s constantly looking around and then smiling fondly when their eyes actually do catch - well. Let’s just say there’s a reason Liam’s had four-going-on-five-right-now vodka sodas since the reception started. 

A little bit of liquid courage never hurt anyone, now did it. 

Nicola pats Liam on the shoulder before getting up to find her boyfriend for a dance. Liam drains his drink, stands up a bit unsteadily and takes a second to right himself before wandering back over to the bar for a refill. The room is pleasantly spinny and everyone around him is talking and dancing and laughing. Liam makes it to the bar and puts his glass down, then rests his chin on his fist and grins easily. It’s a good night, he thinks. Good things are happening. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” a deep voice rumbles from behind him. Liam must have been letting his mind wander a bit more than he realized, because he jumps at the sound. The voice laughs and Liam turns around to see who it is and, oh.

 _Oh_.

“It’s you,” Liam blurts. He tries to be cool. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair and hopes his voice didn’t crack quite as badly as he thinks it did. He can’t really be blamed though, he thinks, because his mystery bloke is _gorgeous_. 

Liam never really stood a chance. 

“It _is_ me,” the bloke says easily. His eyes are sparkling. He’s got a wide mouth and dimples in his cheeks. From this close Liam can see that there are birds inked on his chest and the top of something which looks like a butterfly on his belly. Liam inexplicably wants to touch him all over and see if his skin is as soft as it looks. 

“That’s very deep, mate,” he tacks on. His voice is slow as syrup. “I’m me. You’re you. We’re all who we are, aren’t we.”

Liam blinks. He’s the first to admit he gets confused in conversations frighteningly easily, and the four vodka sodas plus the way this bloke seems to talk in riddles aren’t helping. 

“Uhm--”

“‘M’Harry,” the bloke - _Harry_ , Liam’s brain supplies - says, and holds his hand out for Liam to shake. 

Liam takes it on reflex only. He’s quite sure he’s been standing here with his mouth hanging open like a complete and utter lemon, but Harry’s hand is big and warm and he tightens his fingers around Liam’s and holds on for a beat longer than necessary. 

“I. Um. Liam,” Liam babbles. Harry chuckles quietly and Liam squeezes his eyes shut. _Awful_ , he chastises himself. _You sound like a bloody idiot_. He clears his throat and tries again. “I’m Liam.”

“I know,” Harry says easily. He’s stepped in closer, the toe of his shiny black boot knocking into Liam’s dress loafer. He’s close enough that Liam can smell his cologne and see the tiny lines around the edges of his eyes. Liam must make a face because Harry smiles widely and adds, “Brother-of-the-bride, Liam. Man in charge of the rings, Liam. Fittest bloke at the entire wedding, Liam.”

Liam blinks. He just - he’s not used to this, is all. Not that Liam’s not had his fair share of blokes chatting him up before, but it’s never usually this forward.

Harry, though. Harry seems to be a bit special in every way Liam can see so far. 

“Why are you here?” Liam asks, then curses himself silently when Harry’s mouth drops open and he blinks his eyes widely. Liam thinks he’s pretending to be in shock. “No, I mean like, who are you here for? I can’t imagine you’re someone from my side of the family because, erm--”

“No, Liam. God,” Harry says, laughing brightly. “I assure you I’m not one of your long lost cousins or summat.”

“Oh. All right then,” Liam says feeling relieved. Harry’s somehow impossibly closer and he reaches out and cups Liam’s elbow with his hand. Liam’s pulse kicks up. He can feel his face flush hot and his palms are damp with sweat. Harry is looking at him like he wants to eat him, and for the love of the Queen, Liam’s having a damn hard time trying to come up with a reason why he shouldn’t. 

“Uhm. So do you know Tom then? Or, uh--”

“Do you want to go someplace, Liam?” Harry asks softly. He drops his eyes down to stare at Liam’s mouth, then licks his lips slowly. When he looks back up Liam nearly loses his breath. “Someplace a little more private, maybe?”

Liam knows how wide his eyes probably are and how dumbstruck his expression most likely looks. All he can hear in his head is: _I’m going to do this. I’m going to leave with a complete stranger right in the middle of my own sisters wedding._

“I…”

“Come on,” Harry wheedles. He leans in and touches his nose to the corner of Liam’s jaw. His hair tickles Liam’s cheek. “Please?”

Liam thinks, _oh God_ , and _what the hell?_ and _if my mum ever finds out about this she’ll_ kill _me_. 

What he winds up saying is, “Yes.”

*

The find an empty coat cupboard around a corner where no one’s lingering. Harry pushes the door open and peers inside, then looks back at Liam with his eyes sparkling and a wide grin split across his face. 

“The coast is clear,” Harry whispers dramatically, and Liam can’t help it: he bursts out laughing.

Harry pulls him into the cupboard and shuts the door. There’s a string dangling from the ceiling and Harry tugs on it, setting the small space in a dull, orange glow. Harry’s frowning at him, and Liam’s not sure what it is - the craziness of the day or the four drinks he’s had or what - but he giggles again and reaches out to poke Harry in the cheek. 

“Why the frowny face?” Liam asks. 

Harry _harumpfs_ and sets his mouth in a firm line. “Because,” he pouts. “You’re laughing at me when all I’ve wanted to do all day is this.”

Liam waits. He thinks - what’s _this_? this _what?_ \- until Harry curls his fingers in the lapels of Liam’s suit jacket and yanks him closer, steadying Liam when he stumbles and then pulls him into a kiss. 

And _oh_. _This_ , this.

Liam doesn’t know Harry very well (or at all, really, which his brain keeps trying unhelpfully to point out) but he’s not surprised that Harry kisses with an almost deadly focus, his fingers raking through Liam’s hair and touching his cheeks and face. He licks across Liam’s mouth, biting down on Liam’s bottom lip and grunts softly when Liam opens up to him, kissing back just as deeply. 

Liam goes to touch Harry’s hair and winds up knocking his stupid hat off his pretty head and onto the floor. Harry yelps and giggles and Liam is so utterly charmed. 

“Hey!” Harry says. Liam shushes him but he’s laughing too. This whole thing is equal parts hilarious and ridiculous - he’s snogging a complete stranger in a coat cupboard at his own sister’s wedding for god’s sake - but in a split second Harry’s eyes go dark, and he steps in closer, touching Liam’s waist and sliding his hand around to cup Liam’s arse. 

“You’re so fit,” Harry murmurs and Liam feels his face go hot. He looks down because it’s too much all of a sudden. The cupboard is small and it’s dark and warm and just down the hall are every single one of Liam’s friends and family. This shouldn’t - this isn’t something that should be happening, really.

Harry touches his face, tilting Liam’s head up to meet Harry’s eyes. He’s staring at Liam, green eyes almost glittering in the low light, and he leans in to touch his mouth to Liam’s throat. 

“I want to suck you off,” Harry says. “Please.” 

Liam’s belly swoops and he can feel his face and neck go hot. He’s been half hard since he turned around at the bar to find Harry standing behind him, and everything about this all - Harry wanting him and finding him and touching him - has Liam’s dick going fat in his fancy dress trousers. 

“Harry, you don’t have to.”

“I know that. I want to.”

“But we’re in a _cupboard_.”

“I locked the door.”

“But someone could--”

“ _Liam_ ,” Harry interrupts. He’s smiling at Liam though, and he bites his lip when Liam leans in closer, letting Harry’s hands travel to his thigh and waist before settling on the buckle of his belt. “Are you quite finished?” 

Liam huffs out a breath and kisses Harry again, whining desperately into Harry’s mouth. Because the truth is...the truth is he wants Harry. Very very much. He wants Harry to keep kissing him and touching him and if Harry wants to suck him off, well. Liam certainly isn’t going to stop him. 

“Yeah,” Liam says. He forces himself to stop kissing Harry and leans in, touching their foreheads together. “I mean, yes. I’m finished.”

“You are,” Harry confirms.

“Quite.”

“Are you _sure_ ,” Harry asks.

Liam laughs. “Harry,” he says, just before Harry goes down to his knees. 

He makes quick work of Liam’s belt and the button and zip of his trousers, and then he’s mouthing the cotton of Liam’s pants, his mouth wet and hot even through the thin layer of cotton. Liam lets his head fall back and blinks up at the ceiling. He can’t keep watching Harry as he pulls down Liam’s trousers and pants, or else he might come just from the way Harry’s staring up at him through his dark lashes. 

Harry licks across the head, swirling his tongue and curling his fingers tightly around Liam’s prick. Liam curls his fingers into fists to keep from reaching out and grabbing Harry by the hair, shoving him down onto Liam’s dick and making him take it, because god, this is ridiculous. The things that Harry’s making him think, the things he’s making Liam want. Liam tries to steady himself but then Harry rubs his lips over the head of Liam’s cock and Liam curses, rocking his hips forward and pushing into Harry’s mouth. 

“Sorry! Sorry.” Liam’s mortified, he’s never done anything like that to anyone _ever_. Harry doesn’t seem to mind, though, just pulls Liam in by the hips and starts sucking with intent, his fingers and mouth bringing Liam to the edge almost embarrassingly quickly.

“Harry, wait -”

“No,” Harry mumbles. He shakes his head and sucks Liam deeper. Liam feels his belly go twisted up and hot, his orgasm rocketing through him. “No waiting, just come on my face.”

And that’s it, then. Liam can’t possibly be expected to hold back any longer. He fucks into Harry’s mouth hard enough that Harry makes a muffled little choking noise but he still doesn’t stop. Just keeps licking and letting Liam do whatever he needs until Liam can’t possibly wait another second and pulls out, curling his fingers with Harry’s around his prick and jerking himself off onto Harry’s cheeks and face and mouth.

“Oh my god,” Liam moans. He covers his eyes with the hand not currently holding his own dick, shuddering through the last slow ripples of his orgasm. Harry grins up at him easily, then stands up and cleans off his face with the sleeve of his fancy black shirt. He grins at Liam wolfishly before he immediately starts kissing him again, rutting his hips against Liam’s thigh and moaning almost desperately when Liam drags his hand down Harry’s chest, stopping at the waistband of his trousers. 

“What do you want?” Liam asks. He fits his hand over the outline of Harry’s prick and good _god_ that’s-- “I mean, I’m not sure if I can, erm, like you just did, but I could--”

Anything else Liam’s about to say gets cut off by a sharp, incessant knocking at the door. 

Harry freezes, pulling his head back slowly and blinking shocked, wide eyes at Liam. 

“Who the hell is--” Harry starts, and then the knocking stops, only to pick right back up again even louder. 

“ _Harry_ ,” an angry Irish voice hisses. Harry blanches. His face actually goes white and he pulls away, hastily fixing his trousers and shirt and picking his hat up from the floor. 

“Uhm,” Harry says guiltily. 

“It is you, you dumb fucking fucker,” the voice snaps. 

“Harry, who--?” Liam asks. Harry glances down at Liam’s pants and oh bloody hell, Liam nearly forgot what he must look like. There’s someone just outside the door and here he is, standing in the middle of a coat cupboard with all of his bits out. He hastily yanks up his trousers and pants and buttons and zips himself up as quickly as he can. 

“It’s no one, Liam, I swear,” Harry says pleadingly. His face is so earnest. He _seems_ sincere. But then he unlocks the door opens it a crack and Liam’s met with the single angriest face he’s ever seen up close. 

“Erm,” Liam says slowly. He holds up a hand and wiggles his fingers. “Hello.”

The face stares at Liam for a long moment, then rolls his eyes dramatically and glares at Harry instead. Well all right then. 

“You,” the lad says sharply, “are a fecking idiot.” He’s pointing a finger at Harry’s face, reaching into the cupboard far enough to poke Harry on the forehead. Harry drops his head and kicks the toe of his boot against the floor. 

“What?” Harry says sullenly. “I mean, you said--”

“I said Sunday you fucking fuckhead.” The lad’s cheeks are bright red. He looks ready to do a murder. “We’re meant to be here _tomorrow_.”

Everyone goes quiet at that, Harry because he’s being scolded apparently, and the lad because he’s quite cross. Liam just has no earthly idea what’s going on. A thought occurs to him then though, and it’s so bad - so terrible - it’s got him sucking in a horrified breath and taking a step even farther away from Harry. 

“Wait,” Liam says. He’s pointing from Harry to the lad outside the door and back to Harry. “Are you and he? Like, are the two of you--”

“What?” Harry asks, and then it must register what Liam means because he whips his head up, shaking it back and forth almost violently. “No! No, Liam, I swear, it’s not--”

“Oh my god, wait,” the lad says. He looks directly at Liam now, blue eyes piercing. “Do you think we’re dating? That I’m dating _Harry_?” He starts laughing then, cackling so hard he sounds nearly out of breath. “I’d rather off myself in the fucking loo.”

Harry glares in his direction. “Niall,” he warns. 

“Anyway,” the lad apparently called Niall says. “It was nice to meet you…”

“Liam,” Liam supplies when Niall stares at him expectantly. 

“Liam,” Niall says. “Yes, I’m sure it’s been grand, but we’ve got to go now.”

“Niall, nooooo,” Harry whines. 

Niall glares and opens the door further, the stark light from the hallway making Liam’s eyes squint half-shut. “Niall, yes,” Niall says. “Now say goodbye to your friend.”

Harry’s pouting, staring at Liam with sad eyes. Liam would think it was crazy - he’s just met Harry so there’s no reason to be feeling so bereft - but Harry’s stepping in and kissing Liam’s cheek and all Liam can think is wait - is this it?

“You’re going?” Liam asks. 

“I just--” Harry says, but Niall’s already yanking his arm and tugging him out from the cupboard and into the hall. “I’ll call you!” he yells uselessly, because Liam’s not gotten Harry’s number and he’s definitely not given Harry his own. Before he can point that out though Harry’s gone, stumbling after Niall down the hall on clumsy feet.

*

It’s a week after Ruth’s wedding and Liam is out for drinks at the pub with Louis and Zayn. They met up with the intentions of planning Zayn’s stag do, but Liam made the mistake three days ago of telling Louis about what happened at the wedding and Louis has done nothing but take the piss since. 

“So anyway,” Liam says, tapping the end of his biro against his clipboard. Louis had rolled his eyes when he saw Liam pull the clipboard out of his rucksack but honestly. How are they supposed to plan a stag do without _notes_? “I was thinking we could do dinner first, and then maybe a show?”

“That sounds nice, Li,” Zayn says pleasantly, while Louis dramatically drops his head back and shouts, “ _BO-RING_ ,” up at the ceiling. 

Liam narrows his eyes in Louis’ direction. Zayn rubs the back of his neck soothingly and Liam stops frowning long enough to smile and lean into the touch.

“Well do you have any other suggestions, Tommo,” Liam asks. 

“Oh, actually I _do_!” Louis exclaims. He sits back up and grins, blue eyes sparkling. Liam is fairly sure whatever Louis’ suggestions are he’s not going to approve.

“We can go around and find some fit blokes with long hair and stupid hats, and tell them all to _crash_ the stag do, yeah?” Louis says. “And then you can find the one you like and take him to the loo and--”

“All right, thank you, Louis,” Liam interrupts. He glares in Louis’ direction but Louis is too busy giggling to notice. Liam is trying to be cross - he really is - but the whole thing is still so preposterous he can’t stop from giggling himself.

“Aww, don’t poke fun of Liam,” Zayn says gently. He’s still rubbing the back of Liam’s neck and drops a kiss to his cheek. “It’s not every day our boy picks up a stranger at a wedding and gets off in a coat cupboard. He’s moving up in the world!”

Liam pulls out from under Zayn’s arm and tries to get away because Zayn is his friend, dammit. He’s supposed to be the one who’s on Liam’s side. Zayn is laughing at him too now, which just causes Louis to laugh even harder and Liam throws his hands in the air in defeat. “Oh my god, is everyone is against me? It wasn’t that big of a deal! I can’t understand why after a week no one can talk about anything else other than the--”

“Lads, your next round was waiting up at the bar so I figured I’d bring it over and-- _Liam_?”

The second Liam hears the voice his head whips up and he struggles to get out of whatever kind of friendly headlock Louis has got him stuck in. It’s just that Liam’s heard that voice. He _knows_ that voice. He thinks it’s possible he’s going crazy because honestly, all he’s done for the past week is try to remember exactly what that voice sounds like, but it’s just. It’s so _close_. It sounds _so much like him_. 

Liam can’t imagine how this is possibly happening, or why, but he finally manages to pull free by putting his hand over Louis’ face and pushing him away playfully. He closes his eyes and thinks - _please, please, please_ \- in his head, and then looks up to find Harry standing there with a tray full of drinks, beaming at him brightly. 

“Harry?” Liam can’t believe what he’s seeing. How on earth is this even happening? He blinks his eyes closed and counts to three, then opens them up again. Harry is still somehow, impossibly there. 

“Liam!” Harry says. He sounds genuinely pleased. He looks from Liam over to the others then, and if possible his smile widens even more. “And Louis and Zayn!”

Liam is so, so confused. “Wait,” he says slowly, looking from Harry, over to Louis and Zayn who are staring at the both of them with wide, bulging eyes. “You know Louis and Zayn?”

Zayn barks out a laugh then folds his arms on the table and buries his face against them. His back is shaking with laughter while Louis jumps up from his seat, pointing from Harry to Liam and back again. “Hold on a second. Hold on hold on hold on. _This_ is Harry?” Louis asks. He’s staring at Liam widely with his mouth hanging open. “The Harry that you met at the wedding and then--”

“All right, Louis,” Liam interrupts with, voice bordering on hysterical. He’s stood up now too and reaches over to cover Louis’ mouth with his hand. Louis shifts his eyes in Liam’s direction and honestly, it’s been _years_. Why Liam can never tell when Louis is about to lick his palm in time to pull away is one of life’s greatest mysteries. 

“Ahh!” Liam yelps. He yanks his hand back and wipes it on his jeans. Harry is still standing there holding the drinks, but he finally puts them down on the table and tosses the tray in the empty booth behind them. 

“You all right, Liam?” Harry asks. Liam steps away from the table and nods, shooting Louis a glare when he wolf whistles at them both. Liam ignores him though, because it’s _Harry_. Harry’s _here_.

“You’re here,” Liam says uselessly. He’s staring at Harry so intently and Harry’s watching Liam right back. He’s in a pair of tight blue jeans today, and a red sleeveless flannel. His hair is pulled back and held at the nape of his neck in a bun which somehow makes him even more attractive. Liam didn’t think that was even possible but apparently it is. Liam can see Harry’s green eyes and the dimple in his cheek and the smile on his face that seems to say he’s so, so pleased to see Liam again. 

“Erm, I mean. You work here?” Liam asks. 

Harry nods. “Have done for a bit now.” He glances over at Louis and Zayn in the booth then looks back and grins. “I met these two a while back but I’ve never seen you with them.” 

“I don’t come out as much,” Liam murmurs quietly. He thinks if he’d have known he could have met Harry here earlier he’d have come out sooner. He’d have come out every bloody night. “I didn’t know--”

“God, I can’t believe that Harry is _Harry_ Harry.” Louis says delightedly. He’s actually clapping his hands like a bloody fucking twat. Liam wants to kill him. “It’s bloody mad.”

“Something’s going to be bloody, all right,” Liam mumbles, dropping his face into his hands to hide again.. “Hopefully your nose.”

“Liam!” Louis chastises. “Now is that any way to talk in front of your--”

“All right, Lou. Maybe it’s time we give them a mo, yeah?” Zayn asks quietly. Liam looks over in Zayn’s direction and finds Zayn bodily yanking a loudly protesting Louis out of the booth. He makes sure to catch Zayn’s eye and mouth _thank you_.

Zayn grins and pats Liam on the back, steering Louis in front of himself and walking them both away from the table. “Anytime, Li. Good seeing you again, Harry.”

“You too, Zayn,” Harry calls. 

“I love you best, Zayn!” Liam calls out. He hears Zayn laugh and Louis curse and then yelp as Zayn most likely smacks him on the back of the head. Liam really does love Zayn the best. 

Now that they’re alone though, it gets oddly quiet. He’s staring down at the ground, stepping on one foot with the other, and then Harry’s boots are there, directly in Liam’s line of vision. 

He looks up and Harry’s standing right in front of him. He’s close enough to touch, but Liam doesn’t know if he can do that, if Harry wants him to. Liam laughs quietly and rubs the back of his neck. “So. This is…”

“A bit awkward, yeah,” Harry finishes. Liam looks up and Harry’s watching him, bright green eyes fixed so intently on Liam’s face. 

It comes back to Liam all at once. The way he’d watched Harry all day at the wedding. The thrill he felt when he’d turned to find Harry standing behind him at the bar. The way he’d wanted to touch Harry so badly, and Harry kissing him, and Harry’s mouth.

“I…” Liam starts to say, but Harry cuts him off, talking faster than Liam’s ever heard him speak before. 

“I crashed your sisters wedding,” Harry blurts out. He’s blinking at Liam widely and runs hand through his hair, tugging the rubberband out and slipping it onto his wrist. His hair falls in long curls around his face, swinging loosely as he shakes his head. “I was meant to meet Niall at his friend Sandy’s wedding the day after but I got the dates all cocked up. I knew from the second the ceremony started what had happened, but I just…” he trails off and bites his lip. 

“I saw you there and I wanted to talk to you.” Harry sighs. He sounds almost defeated when he adds, “And you’re probably cross about it and you should be! It was your sister’s wedding! And then we hooked up and it was...so great,” he says wistfully. “Like _really_ great.”

He gazes at Liam for a second happily but then his eyes narrow and his grunts in frustration. “Then Niall showed up and ruined everything,” Harry pouts. “I had to run off and and leave you and--” he shrugs and looks down, kicking the toe of his boot against Liam’s trainer. “And now you’re here and I’d like to talk to you and call you sometime but you probably hate me. And I _get_ it. It’s _fine_ But I just...” Harry blows out a long slow breath and lifts one shoulder. “I just wish you’d maybe forget about the crap way we met and pretend we did it better. That’s all.”

Liam’s got a million things spinning through his head all at once. Because Harry _did_ crash Ruth’s wedding and he _should_ be cross about it. Liam knows that. All he can think about though, is Harry wanting to talk to him, and Harry kissing him, and Harry looking at him now like he’d like to talk to Liam and kiss him some more. 

Truth be told, wedding crasher or not, Liam would like that too. 

“Harry, I...” Liam says then trails off. He’s trying to sound nonchalant. It’s not easy, seeing as how his heart is beating so quickly he’s fairly sure the entire pub can hear it, but he’s going to do his best to pretend. “I mean, hello there. I’m Liam.”

Harry’s watching him quietly, green eyes staring directly at him. Liam’s belly flips over. He holds his hand out for Harry to shake, poking Harry in the chest gently when Harry seems not to get it. 

“I think you’re meant to shake my hand and introduce yourself properly, mate,” Liam whispers, leaning in close enough that he can see the light stubble on Harry’s cheeks and chin. He can smell Harry’s cologne and the minty gum he’s chewing and when Harry finally cottons on to what Liam’s doing, Liams close enough to see the way his eyes light up, and watch the slow, happy curve of his mouth. 

“Oh. I’m. I mean, m’Harry,” Harry says. Instead of shaking Liam’s hand though, he slides their fingers together then lifts Liam’s hand up, pressing a kiss to the inside of his palm. The tops of Harry’s cheeks are pink and Liam feels his own go warm and he laughs, and steps in closer, and kisses Harry quickly on the cheek. 

“So, erm, Harry,” Liam says. He bites his lip and darts his eyes around the pub trying to find someplace for them to sneak off to. For a second maybe. Not too long. Just a few minutes to say hello, so to speak. “Is there anywhere around here that we might be able to go to so we can--”

“There’s a coat cupboard towards the back?” Harry says. His eyes are shining and Liam laughs brightly, covering his mouth with his hand and giggling when Harry starts pulling him through the pub. “I mean, unless that doesn’t work for you, of course.”

Liam laughs, stopping only when Harry pulls up short to turn around and kiss Liam soundly on the mouth. Harry’s got his eyes closed but when he opens them there’s something so soft and fond Liam’s breath catches hard in his chest. 

“I can’t believe I found you again,” Harry murmurs quietly. Liam’s insides get all twisted up and he curls his fingers in Harry’s shirt and pulls him close, pressing their mouths together for a beat longer than the last. 

Liam can’t believe he found Harry again either, but now that he has he’s not planning on letting him go. 

“Me too,” Liam murmurs. 

“Good,” Harry says, kissing him again quickly before pulling him through the pub even faster. “Next time I promise I’ll take you somewhere nice, all right? But for now…”

He stops around a back hallway and flicks off the light. There’s a wooden door in front of them and Harry knocks once, then pushes it open when no one says anything. Harry’s eyes are twinkling. He tugs on Liam’s arm and drags him into the cupboard. “For now this is good, yeah?” Harry asks. 

His mouth is already on Liam’s neck and Liam can’t do anything more than gasp and nod and shove the door closed with his foot. “It’s good. Great. Perfect,” Liam says, sucking in a breath when Harry sets his teeth against Liam’s throat. “Now stop talking and kiss me,” he says, and Harry does.

 

-END-


End file.
